


If I'm Stuck Here, at Least I'm Stuck With You

by thecuddlechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied Past Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecuddlechesters/pseuds/thecuddlechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is stuck in a mental institution. Plagued with dreams, he find someone like him. No one would ever have guessed the changes he would go through after he met Castiel.</p>
<p>TW: Self-harm, attempted suicide, suicide, abuse, mental instability</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confusion All Around Me

_“Dean!” Sam called. “Get the salt!”_   
_Dean scrambled along the floor to his duffle bag, cradling his bleeding arm to his chest. He reached his bag, struggling to get it open. Glancing up, he saw a demon coming up behind Sam._   
_“Sam, down!” As he ducked, Dean grabbed the extra shotgun from his bag, praying it was loaded. As the rock salt shot out, peppering the demon in the face, he grinned. “Knife!” he yelled out. Sam snatched Ruby’s knife from the ground where it had fallen, grabbing the handle and twisting around. His hand shot out and the knife struck the abdomen of the young girl the demon was possessing. The demon inside her lit up as it died. As the girl went limp, Sam fell to the floor._   
_Using the last of the strength in his body, Dean pushed himself over to his little brother, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Dean fell back against the ground, vision fading fast. The last thing he saw was a bright flare, accompanied by the rustle of feathers._

Dean shot up out of bed, sweating and shaking. Glancing over, he saw his roommate Corbett was still asleep. He threw his feet over the side of the bed and stood slowly. He could still feel the drugs they had pumped into him going through his body. Dizzy, he tried to make his way along the wall to the bathroom, but collapsed after just a few steps. Laying there was relaxing, and he rolled over so that his cheek was pressed against the cool linoleum. His eyes closed and he fell asleep again.  
-  
“Dean? Dea- Dean!” Charlotte, the morning orderly, hurried to Dean’s side, rolling him over. He jerked, eyes shooting open. Charlotte relaxed slightly. “Did they give you a different dosage last night?” Dean shrugged.  
“Well, come on. It’s time for breakfast. Corbett’s already there.” Charlotte kept up the chatter as she escorted him down the hall, but he tuned her out. Suddenly, he heard a bit of news that interested him.  
“What?”  
Charlotte looked down at him. “Pancakes for break-” Dean cut her off. “No, before that. What did you say?”  
“There’s a new patient?” Dean nodded. “What about it?” she asked.  
“Tell me about them.” Charlotte thought back to Dean’s file left for the nurses, remembering the section about his obsession with knowing as much about new patients as he could wheedle out of the nurses and orderlies who were charmed by his smile and bright green eyes.  
“Well, he’s your age,” she began, forgetting about his file and concentrating on his smile. “And he has dreams. Like you. He’s got dark hair and bright blue eyes. You’ve never seen eyes this blue, Dean. They’re like a mixture of lapis lazuli, diamonds, and sapphires. He’s got a day of evaluation before Doctor Kaplan decides where he’s going to stay and which group he’ll be in- morning or afternoon.” They were almost to the cafeteria, and Charlotte shook herself.  
“That’s all I can say, Dean. Please don’t pressure me to say more.”  
Dean looked at his slippered feet and sighed. “Okay.” When Charlotte didn’t keep walking with him, he looked back at her. “You coming?” She shook her head and turned around. Dean shrugged and continued down the hallway.  
He reached the cafeteria and did as he did every morning- he grabbed a plastic tray and a plastic fork and got in line behind Corbett. When he saw what the choices for breakfast, he chose Pop-Tarts, just like every other day. He grabbed chocolate milk from the cooler, showed the cafeteria lady his tray and walked to the corner, where a table with a single chair sat. No one knew why he decided to sit there every morning, afternoon and night, but no one questioned it. No questions were asked in the hospital, especially this one.  
Dean unwrapped his breakfast and opened his milk and stared at the wall as he ate. He ate like this every morning. I don’t belong here, he thought, swallowing a bite of food. I’m perfectly sane. Sam better come get me soon. With that, he chugged down the last of the milk and pushed back his chair. He had morning Group and he didn’t want to be late, or else he would lose his game room privileges.  
Dean was the last to arrive at morning Group, and Dr. Wallace looked at him angrily. Dean shrugged and sat down next to Melissa, the girl who screamed every night. She grinned at him, and he smiled back. They never talked but smiled at each other at least once a day. Dr. Wallace cleared his throat, silencing the few people who were talking.  
“Good morning, everyone.” He paused while a few people murmured ‘Good morning’ back to him. “Okay, who would like to start for today? Melissa?”  
She nodded and started massaging her hands nervously. “I had another nightmare last night. I was trying to run away from the- the monster that killed my family. But I couldn’t. I was stuck, and he got me. He got me. I couldn’t stop him, and he carved me up. He cut patterns on my skin, and when he was done, it all healed… and he started again. Again and again and I couldn’t wake up!”  
She started to shake, and Dean grabbed her hands, gripping them in his tightly. She looked up at him in shock, and he smiled at her, a kind smile. As she rocked back and forth, he stroked the palms of her hand with his thumbs, and he looked to Dr. Wallace.  
“I think she’s done for today, Dr. Wallace.” The doctor nodded, and pressed the call button. “Charlotte? Can you bring Melissa back to her room?” A burst of static and a muffled ‘Yes’ answered him.  
When Charlotte arrived to take Melissa, Melissa whispered to Dean, “Thank you.” He nodded at her as she was pulled out of the room.  
“Thank you, Dean. That was very nice of you. I’m surprised at you, though… You make a point to not talk to people here. What changed?” Dr. Wallace brought pen to paper and looked at Dean expectantly.  
Dean shrugged. “It’s my job to protect people.”  
“And what do you mean by that?”  
He shrugged again, not answering. The doctor sighed. This happened every time. He would make progress with the Winchester boy, and then he would retreat into a shell. Of course, every word Dean uttered was cryptic and drenched in the mystery of his dreams. He never talked about them except in private sessions, and that was only on a good day. He doubted he would ever know the extent of Dean’s personality, and he doubted Dean would ever leave the hospital.  
Morning Group continued, and Dr. Wallace listened to each patient willing to talk. He kept Dean in his sight, and noticed that he listened to each person intently, while still looking bored and uninterested. It seemed to be a talent. He made a note of it to talk about later to his private therapist.  
Group ended, and everyone went their separate ways. Dean didn’t feel like talking to anyone after what happened with Melissa, so he headed to his room. What met him there surprised him. Alan Corbett, his roommate for seven months, was packing up, throwing his meager supply of clothes into a small black duffel bag.  
“Corbett? What-?”  
Corbett looked at him, excitement a fire in his eyes. “I’m being discharged! The doc decided I was healthy enough to go back home. I’m leaving in an hour.”  
Disappointment coursed through his body, but Dean forced a smile and clapped him on the back. “That’s great, Corbett. I’m happy for you. You’ll do great out there.” Corbett smiled. “Thanks, man. You made this hell-hole half enjoyable. I’ve got to go say goodbye to everyone. See you, man. You’ll get out of here soon enough.” With a smile and a handshake, Corbett swept out the door, a spring in his step.  
Dean sat heavily on his bed, and took a deep breath. He fought hard against the tears stinging his eyes. Corbett had been his best friend, even if they had started out not talking and had progressed to a word every week. He would miss the guy.  
He leaned back on his bed, emotions under control. A knock on the door made him jump, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. It was Charlotte.  
“How are you doing, Dean? I just saw Corbett with his parents.” Dean shrugged. “I’m fine.” Charlotte shook her head. She knew Dean only talked to a few people, and only when he felt completely safe. She left and Dean listened to the squeak of her shoes as she walked back down to the nurses’ station.  
Sam, if you can somehow hear me… get me the hell out of here. He rolled onto his stomach and reached under the bed for a notebook that had been his fathers’. It was a detailed book of their family tree, and Dean stared at the picture of his family all together. Sam was just a baby, and their mother was still alive. It was when his life had been perfect.  
Then the yellow-eyed demon had come, and had killed his mother and had taken his father into a lifestyle he couldn’t escape. He had become a hunter, desperate for revenge. John Winchester had dragged his two young sons all over the country, teaching them to do things that no seven year old should have to be taught. John had disappeared, and he and Sam went looking for him, but then he had lost Sam, too.  
Dean slammed the book shut, tossing it under his bead. His thoughts were getting out of control again… He sat up, trying to get his breathing under control. Finally, he decided to go for a walk in the tiny garden behind the day room. Since it was early winter, not many people would be out, and he would have a little more privacy. He shuffled past the nurses’ station, and noted the curious eyes of Charlotte and Tessa, the second day nurse.  
Dean stayed outside until it was lunch time, and then grudgingly went in. He did the same thing as that morning: Got his food and went to the secluded table in the corner. He quickly ate, eager to get back outside. Dumping his tray and hurrying to the door, he was almost out when he heard his name being called.  
“Dean!” He turned towards the voice and sighed. It was Dr. Kaplan, his private therapist. “I’d like to have a session. Now, if you don’t mind.”  
“I was actually going to hang outside…” Dr. Kaplan smirked. “Nonsense. Come on, to my office we go.”  
-  
“So Dean. Dr. Wallace told me what happened in Group this morning with Melissa. He told me when he asked you why you did it, you responded, “It’s my job to protect people.” Care to elaborate?”  
Dean shrugged. “Not really…” The doctor shook his head. “Okay… How do you feel about Corbett leaving?”  
Sighing, Dean settled back into the armchair Dr. Kaplan had placed in his office. “I’m gonna miss him, I guess… We weren’t that close.” Dr. Kaplan nodded, signaling him to go on. “Whatever. I mean, I’ll have a new roommate soon enough, right?”  
After that, Dean only gave short clipped answers, and Dr. Kaplan could tell he wasn’t going to make any progress. Grudgingly, he told Dean he could go.  
Dean shot out of his chair, running out of the room before the doctor could release the breath he had been holding. Dean hurried down the hall and out into the garden, relaxing after checking behind all the bushes and underneath all the benches. Looking around, he kneeled to the ground and started to dig around in the soft dirt, searching for the penknife he had hidden there a few weeks ago when Corbett’s family had visited. Corbett’s brother had slipped him a knife, and Corbett had given it to Dean for his birthday.  
He sat on the ground by a bench and slowly started carving a Devil’s Trap into the hard packed dirt underneath it. He was sure at least one demon would sit on this bench, and then he could figure out who the other ones were.  
As the door to the garden opened, the knife flew out of his hand when he jerked, landing behind some leaves. Tessa poked her head out. “Dean! You need to come in for a bit.” Dean groaned. “Why?”  
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Social time,” she called back. Slowly, Dean got up, trying to see if the knife was visible. It wasn’t so he hurried back to the door. Tessa led him to the game room. “Have fun!” she cooed sweetly, and Dean rolled his eyes.  
Jake, a tall boy with no shoes, sat at the window seat, mumbling to himself. Hester and Anna sat playing checkers, and Balthazar was building a Lego castle. The rest of the kids were talking quietly amongst themselves. They were the “normal bunch”, according to the file Dean had gotten a peek at one day in Dr. Kaplan’s office.  
Jake, Hester, Anna, Balthazar, and he were the ones no one thought would ever get out of the institution. Dean sighed and walked up to Balthazar, plopping down and grabbing a few Lego’s. Balthazar jumped, but when he saw it was Dean he relaxed.  
“Do you like it?” he asked, motioning to his castle. Dean nodded, looking at the side closest to him.  
“It’s nice. Detailed,” he murmured distractedly. “Hey, did you hear anything about a new patient?” Balthazar shook his head. “Oh. Okay.” Dean sat with Balthazar and worked on the battlements of the castle until the bell for dinner rang. Dean jumped in surprise.  
“It’s time for dinner already?” Balthazar nodded. “Come on, Dean. I’ll walk with you.” Balthazar knew that once they got to the cafeteria, Dean would head off to the corner table alone, but he didn’t mind. He had Hester and Anna to sit with.  
-  
Dinner pasted by slowly, much slower than both breakfast and lunch. Dean ate quickly and sat staring at the cracks in the wall for the remainder of dinner. He couldn’t stop thinking of the new patient. Who was he? What was his name? Where will he stay? These questions, along with hundreds of others, flitted through Dean’s head for an hour. By the time they could leave, he had gotten himself a dozen theories about the new boy.  
One was that he was just plain crazy. Another being that he was a spy and he was here to infiltrate for the demons. That didn’t seem likely, though. The one theory Dean prayed was true was that Sam had sent someone to break him out. He was so tired of this place. He had been here for months. Almost a year, now.  
When he got back to his room, Dean plopped down on the floor and reached under Corbett’s bed. Well, it wasn’t his anymore. Groping around, he finally found what he was looking for. Corbett had managed to get his hands on a couple of chocolate bars, and he had let Dean know where they were hidden. Neither of them ate one very often, as the supply was limited. They only really ate one when they were really stressed, and the chocolate always helped to relaxed them. Corbett had left them there for Dean. He smiled, unwrapping a candy bar. Corbett was a good kid. He deserved to get out of the hospital.  
Just as Dean finished with the chocolate bar, he heard a squeak down the hall. He was sitting in the dark on the floor, which was suspicious enough, but having a candy wrapper would get his garden privileges and his game room privileges revoked for a month, and he would have to go to a private session with Dr. Kaplan everyday for that month.  
Throwing the wrapper in the box and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he shoved the box back under the bed and laid down on the floor. Just as he was getting the hand of the chocolate off of his mouth, Tessa peeked in.  
“Dean? What are you doing?” She reached her hand in and turned on the lights, and Dean popped his eyes open. “What?”  
Tessa laughed. “Come on, get up. I’ve got someone to meet you.”  
Dean shot up and stared at her. “Dean, meet your new roommate.”  
As the new boy walked into the room, Dean struggled to breathe. His eyes were just as Charlotte had described them. They were beautiful.  
“Hi. I’m Dean.”  
“My name is Castiel. You can call me Cas.”


	2. Sharing Isn't Always Caring, It It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry that this is being published, well, uhm, a very long time after being originally started. I'm not good at keeping track of what I'm writing, so please don't hold it against me! Again, really sorry, and please let me know of you thoughts and if you see any errors. This is being posted with out a proofread (which, I know, is bad form) and at one in the morning after a long, long day. Anyone willing to beta for me would be greatly appreciated!! Also, sorry it's so short!

 The silence was awkward. Dean could tell Cas was uncomfortable, by the way he was still hunched over his bag after ten minutes.

“Dude. Do you want me to go? I can leave if you wanna unpack...” Cas shook his head. His eyes caught the sunlight streaming in from the high, albeit barred, window and shone white for a moment.

“It's fine. I just- I don't- I- I'm just tired. It's nothing,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he slid to the floor and opened the top drawer. “Is... is this my dresser?” he asked Dean, glancing up at him. Dean nodded, but Cas frowned. “Then what's this?” He pulled out a plain notebook, like one you would find in a dollar store. He started when Dean lunged for it.

Dean plucked it from his hand, accidentally shoving Cas into his bed. “Oh! I'm sorry, I just- this is Corbett's notebook. He must have left it behind...” He trailed off, staring at the cover.

Cas sighed. “Who the hell is Corbett? Wait. Never mind. I don't care.” Dean stared at him.

“What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” he asked, standing to tower over the new boy. Cas stood as well, bringing himself to almost Dean's full height. “Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that a few dreams got me sent off to the nuthouse? You have no _idea_ what I'm going through, okay? So kindly fuck off.” With that, he tossed his duffle bag onto his bed and stormed out.

 _Dude. What the hell just happened?_ Dean thought to himself.

 

Dean knocked softly on Dr. Kaplan door, hoping he wouldn't be in a session. When the doctor opened the door, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Dr. Kaplan, I hope I'm not interrupting?”

“No, no, of course not! Come in, Dean, come in!” he chuckled, ushering Dean into his office. “What's on your mind, son?”

Dean smirked. “Oh, it's just that Corbett left his notebook in his drawer. And I don't know if he forgot it or something. I was wondering if you could call him? See if he wants it.” Dr. Kaplan noticeably deflated. “That's it?” he asked. Dean nodded. “Well, off you go.”

Dean placed the notebook on the doctor's desk and left, not before seeing Dr. Kaplan scribble something down on a piece of paper. He rolled his eyes and let the door swing shut.

When Dean got out of the office, he heard his name called out. Charlotte was trotting down the hall toward him, so he stopped and waited for her to catch up. “What's up?” he asked. She was slightly out of breath, and took a moment answering him.

“Have you seen Castiel? He wasn't in his room. Or the game room. Or anywhere.” Dean shrugged.

“Haven't seen him since he yelled at me about 'not understand what he's going through', the asshole.” Charlotte stared at him. “What? He's a dick. Beautiful blue eyes or not.”

“Let me know if you see him, okay?” He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes as she turned back down the hall. Dean, suddenly short of breath, felt drawn toward the garden. Making his way there was almost done without thought, leaving Dean with the feeling of self-disgust. He shouldered his way out the door, suddenly angry and exhausted all at once.

“Where can a person go for fucking _privacy_ here, Jesus Christ?” he heard muttered from the corner nearest the fence. Dean took a few tentative steps forward, peeking around the smallish tree in the center of the garden, seeing with a mix of shock and fear the object of his anger.

“Castiel?”

The look the blue eyed boy shot his way was icy. “What the fuck do you want?”

He was sitting wedged in the corner of the garden, sitting in the softly packed dirt, picking at a stick. He sighed, struggling to his feet. “No privacy at all then? Great.” He made to walk past Dean, but he reached out and grabbed his shirtsleeve. Cas froze.

“What's your problem? I just met you and you're being a complete and total jackass.”

Cas wrenched his arm away from Dean, wiping dirt from the sleeves of his jacket. “ _You're_ a complete and total jackass.” After shooting another glare at Dean, he stomped into the building, leaving Dean alone with the feeling that they had met before.

-

_“Dean?”_

_Groggy, Dean sat up, is eyes landing immediately on Sam. Despite the fight that had gone down only minutes before, Sam was unhurt. The hotels surrounded him, covered in blood, but none was on his little brother. Wait. Hotel?_

_Dean's eyes shot open, taking in every detail. He was seemingly unhurt also. His arm was no longer broken and bleeding, tough is clothes showed the tell tale signs._

_“What the hell?” he wondered aloud. Sam shrugged. “I have no fucking clue. We were as good as dead. Now, we're suddenly... in our hotel?”_

_As Dean flopped back onto the bed, the door swung open, slamming into the wall. As both Sam and Dean went for the shotguns tucked under the pillows, they were flung back, both hitting a table and falling to the floor. A man walked through the door, walking straight to the brothers._

_“I am not here to harm you,” he said, the authority in his voice making Dean want to inherently trust him. Years of training stopped him, though._

_“Who the hell are you?” Dean spat, and the man's blue eyes darkened._

_“My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.”_

_-_

Dean woke suddenly as he fell off his bed, landing on the cold floor. He scrambled up and away from the beds as he stared toward his new roommate. Castiel was sitting up in bed, his mouth hanging open as he stared back at Dean.

“What. The. Holy. Hell. Was. That?” Castiel asked haltingly. Dean continued to stare at him. “Were you- Was _I_ \- Were we- dreaming?”

“Of each other?” Cas nodded. “I think so.” As Dean continued to stare at the teenager in front of him, he was overcome with a rush of emotions. Enough of them to cause him to faint.

 

%MCEPASTEBIN%


End file.
